I rolled my eyes. If you’re going to hate online, at least use proper grammar.
Wait. It wasn’t until I reread the comment that a memory from Aruba connected the dots. Macey, by the pool, complaining about her boss.She used the wrong version of your versus you are again.
There was no way Victoria was leaving rude comments on Macey’s Instagram…right?
I shook off the thought, pushing the door into the coffee shop instead.
The coffee shop smelled like fresh espresso and something sweet—maybe cinnamon, maybe vanilla. It had that effortless charm of an indie coffee shop, exposed brick, hanging plants, and shelves lined with coffee beans in glass jars.
My gaze swept the room, landing on Macey instantly. She was tucked into a corner booth, already deep into her laptop, a half-finished iced coffee beside her. Loose strands of hair had slipped from her braid, framing her face as she chewed her lip in concentration.
I made my way over, dropping into the seat across from her. “Tell me you’re not already stressing over this.”
Macey glanced up, startled, then rolled her eyes. “I have to stress. This is my future.” She gestured to the screen as if it held the keys to her destiny. “My blog, my brand, my livelihood.”
I reached for her drink, taking a sip without asking. “And that’s why I’m here—to make sure you don’t spiral into a black hole of overthinking.”
“Rude,” she muttered, swatting at my hand, but she was smiling now.
I leaned back, stretching my arms along the back of the booth. “All right, let’s get to work. Show me what you’ve got so far.”
She shifted her laptop in my direction. “It’s calledMacey’s Miles. I’ll be focused on travel blogging for now, but maybe I’ll expand my silos as I grow.”
On the screen, her homepage was clean and modern. It had a crisp white background, bold but elegant font, and a logo that suited her perfectly: stylish yet approachable. A soft blue-and-gold color scheme tied everything together, giving it a polished, professional feel.
“It looks good,” I said, scrolling through the pages. The navigation was smooth, the branding consistent. The only thing missing? Content.
“There’s not much here yet,” I pointed out.
Macey sighed, rubbing her temple. “I know. That’s the part that terrifies me. A blank website feels way more intimidating than a blank notebook.”
I smirked. “That’s because a notebook doesn’t have the entire Internet waiting to judge you.”
She groaned. “Not helpful.”
I turned the laptop back toward her. “Then let’s fix it. I’ll help you make a content plan. Blog posts, Instagram, engagement strategies. We have to tie them together.” I took out my own phone. “Actually, I use an app to plan mine. I wonder if I can add you as a user so you can try it out.”
I looked up from my phone to see her staring at me with a soft smile. “What?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Thanks for offering to help.”
“It’s part of our deal,” I said.
“Right.” Macey tucked her chin, focused again on her computer. “Our deal.”
I cringed, knowing I’d said the wrong thing, but unsure how to make it right.
She pushed her coffee cup to me. “If you’re getting a coffee, can you get me a refill? It’s only fair since you had the last sip.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
I returned a few minutes later, two coffees and a slice of cake in hand. My respect for servers increased tenfold. Balancing items on your forearms was difficult.
Macey craned her neck. “What kind of cake is that?”
“Carrot.” I handed her the second fork. We both took a bite.
Yeah, coffee and cake really could make anything better.
